


mother knows best

by wlw_omgcp



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, It's not as dark as it sounds, Mommy Issues, Post-Canon, i promise it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wlw_omgcp/pseuds/wlw_omgcp
Summary: “Ms. Knight, Shi-Byron and I aren’t together.”Lardo can't see Shitty's mom, but she can hear her smile drop.“You’re joking.”Or, Shitty's mom is worse than Emily Gilmore. Lardo loves him anyway.
Relationships: Larissa "Lardo" Duan & Shitty Knight, Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight, Shitty Knight & His Mom, Shitty Knight & Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	mother knows best

"Lards, it's 3 am, _what_ are you doing up."

Lardo sat perched up on the kitchen counter. Her screen illuminated the otherwise dark room, the blue light reflecting off her tears.

"What's going on?"

Lardo tried to laugh, but the sound didn't quite come out right. "Nobody wants my art, Shits. Nobody with any money."

"That's not true," he assured her, climbing onto the countertop to be at her level. From behind, Shitty rested his head in the crook of her shoulder. Lardo softened to his touch.

"You don't know anyone who could drop a couple grand on a painting, do you?"

Lardo was joking, but Shitty didn't laugh. It was quiet for a moment; apart from the city outside and the rustling of Shitty's hands over Lardo's arms back and forth, back and forth.

"What are you thinking?"

"That capitalism is evil," he settled on, making her snicker, "and that I think I know a rich person in need of some groundbreaking art."

Lardo racked her brain for friends of theirs with money.

"Between my art and his, Jack's out of wall space," she thought out loud, counting with her fingers. "I just finished a painting for his parents. Tater's piece is almost done, and Nursey paid me already for his father's day gift. Who else?"

"Someone a lot less fun."

Lardo turned.

"My mother."

Lardo unhooked herself from Shitty's arms to face him. Her jaw hung loosely down.

"She has this charity event every summer but right now she doesn't have shit for the auction and is flipping out—"

"You would call your mother. For me. Without a gun to your head."

"Gun or no gun."

Lardo smiled in disbelief.

"Look, Lards, feel free to turn me down, I know you could do this on your own. And my mom is gonna be a pain in the ass to work with."

Lardo knew Shitty was right. She also knew that she needed the money.

"I'm a tough cookie."

"That you are," Shitty nuzzled into her, "I'll call her in the morning."

The next few moments were wonderfully quiet. Boston buzzed in the background as they breathed together. They were in sync for a while, but Shitty's inhales grew deeper and louder until they were undeniably snores.

An unexpected feeling of dread seized Lardo. This was her cue. The late-night cuddle sesh had come to a natural end, and now it was time to part. She understood this, but not the feeling in the pit of her stomach. It gnawed at her as she crawled down from the countertop and guided Shitty to do the same. His dead weight clung to her as they stumbled back to his room. Shitty's bare side was warm as it pressed into Lardo's, and she caught herself missing the heat as she lowered him onto his bed.

The sudden, silly thought of joining him crossed Lardo's mind.

"Night night," he murmured, burrowing into his covers. Not exactly an invitation to stay.

_He would have asked you to if he wanted._

And so she left, slipping out of his room and crossing the hall to hers, feeling both closer to and farther from Shitty than ever before.

***

The smell of weed was especially strong when Lardo woke up. It lured her out of bed and into the living room, where Shitty sat cradling his bowl.

"Just who I wanted to see," he greeted.

Lardo grumbled back, grabbing a banana from the kitchen.

"I know this is gonna sound dumb, but—"

"Hey, I don't like that negative self-talk."

Shitty smiled weakly. "You're so right, okay," Shitty re-tried. His voice was rarely this small.

"Can you do me a solid and be in the room when I call her?"

"Course, Shits."

Shitty nodded in gratitude, then grabbed his phone. Lardo kept expecting to hear the ring, but as she made her breakfast, she stole glances at his thumb just hovering over the screen.

"I'm right here," she reminded him. She had intended her encouragement to be less...soft, but it seemed to have worked—Shitty pressed _Call_. Before either of them knew it, a clipped, professional voice answered.

"Carolyn Knight speaking?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Byron! What a surprise to hear from you."

Lardo's brain short-circuited. She had seen his legal name on the lease, but she had never heard it before. Her awe was cut short by Shitty's purposeful exhale, the kind he did when he was trying to keep his calm. Without this, Lardo would have probably missed his mom's (not so subtle) dig.

"How are you?"

"Well, you know how I get this time of year. The gala makes me pull my hair out."

"I figured, that's actually why I called. I know you're still short on art from the auction, and my friend Lardo—"

"Byron, you know I can't keep up with your hockey names."

It was then that Lardo felt weird about eavesdropping, even though she had been invited to do so.

"My friend Larissa," he tried, winking up at her, "the one we had lunch with after graduation, she's a spectacular artist, insanely talented in like every medium, her process is just incredible to watch, and—“

“And?”

“She might be able to squeeze a commission into her schedule.”

“Might?"

Lardo didn't know Shitty's mom well, but it sounded like she had taken the bait.

“Well, once she finishes this piece for Alicia Zimmermann.”

The magic words. Even Lardo remembered that Alicia Zimmermann was Carolyn Knight’s idol. If Alicia Zimmermann told her to get a tattoo, Carolyn would get ten.

“Byron, this is why we keep you around. Send me her contact info ASAP.”

“Will do,” he sighed.

“I have to run, but good hearing your voice, talk to you later.”

And with that, the apartment was abruptly quiet. Lardo had a bad taste in her mouth, and it wasn't from the banana. She could tell Shitty felt the same, which explained her suddenly chipper demeanor.

"That could've gone worse!"

Shitty nodded, packing another bowl.

"That had to be, like, Top 10 nicest things you've done for me."

Those green eyes turned back to Lardo, smiling though his face didn't move. They were looking at her funny, like they were taking a mental picture on film that needed a minute to develop.

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

The light streamed into the apartment at a slant and an ice cream truck chimed in the background and Lardo felt so _happy_ for no reason at all. Well, no reason she could admit.

***

The next morning, Lardo woke to the faint quacking of ducks. She rubbed her eyes, trying to reason how a duck would have gotten into their apartment. It took a good twenty seconds of imagining that scenario before Lardo recognized the noise as her ringtone. Frantic, she sat up in bed and cleared and cleared her throat before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Carolyn Knight, Byron's mother? I'm calling for Larissa."

Lardo's heartbeat quickened.

"This is her. Thanks for calling, Ms. Knight."

“I couldn’t resist after Byron sent a link to your portfolio. You have quite a gift.”

Lardo thanked her, genuinely surprised by the compliment. From what Shitty had told her, they weren't given out easily.

“Your talent is just the sort of thing the silent auction is missing. Would you be interested in doing a piece for a commission?”

Before she could respond, Shitty burst into the room. He looked...determined, at least at first. He was standing up straighter and he had real clothes on and there was something else that Lardo couldn't quite put a finger on. But whatever spirit possessed him left as soon as he saw the phone up to Lardo's ear. She mouthed a (confused) apology and Shitty awkwardly backed out of her room.

"Uhh, sure, I'd love to work something out."

As dazed as Lardo was by that weird interaction, she had to prioritize the call. On autopilot, she grabbed a bright blue pen and wrote down the details on the back of a receipt. Shitty's mom was straightforward about what she wanted, but Lardo preferred clients to be that way. There was enough in her life that went unsaid.

“And you’re obviously invited to the gala, and I’ll give you a raise if you can get Byron to come with you.”

Lardo could not tell if that was a joke. “I’ll try,” she teased, but Ms. Knight was quiet for a worrying second.

“That son of mine should have brought you years ago.”

Lardo wanted to jump to his defense, but his mom’s voice wasn’t angry, just sort of sad. “I understand why he would want you all to himself, though, you really are lovely. Listen, this has been great but I have a meeting to run to, I’ll email soon, bye now!”

With that, Ms. Knight’s line disconnected. Lardo was left stunned, for lack of a better word. What had Shitty's mom meant and the end, about bringing her around? Or what had Shitty meant by barging in, acting like he had something to say, and then leaving without a word? _Being weird must be genetic_ , she decided on.

"Shits?" she called out, stepping into the hallway. "I'm off the phone?" Shitty didn't holler back, but Lardo fully expected to see him on the couch or in the chair or behind the counter. Instead, nothing. Shitty's key wasn't hanging from the hook by the door. Confused, Lardo checked her phone.

 **SHITS** 🤠: wanted to know if you wanted a bagel lol

Lardo's thumb hovered over her keyboard, making nervous circles. She knew Shitty was lying. There was no way of knowing what he had wanted to talk about, but she could tell it was a little heavier than her Einstein's order.

 **lardo** 🐣: that was a dramatic way to ask

 **SHITS** 🤠: brah

 **SHITS** 🤠: bagels are a big deal

This answer didn't satisfy Lardo, not in the least. But it's not like she had a lot of options. Sure, she could press it—but what if it really was just about the bagels and she was making a mountain out of a molehill? Or maybe it had to do with his weird/bad mom stuff? Lardo couldn’t say.

 **lardo** 🐣: ok tru

Lardo felt weird about her interactions with both Knights so far that morning, and to avoid dwelling on them, she promptly returned to bed.

***

Over the next week, the bagel incident faded from Lardo's memory. She holed herself up in her studio, chopping up old magazines and dripping paint onto canvases. The collages for the gala were going really well. Not long after emailing Ms. Knight a picture to show off her progress, Lardo’s phone rang.

"Larissa, hi, I just wanted to let you know I got the pictures you sent and they’re perfect."

Lardo cracked a smile. "Great, I'm glad you like it."

"I _love_ it. Speaking of that, it’s looking like my son will never work up the courage, which is why I think you should ask him.”

Lardo racked her brain before clarifying: “Ask him what?”

“To marry you.”

Lardo bluescreened.

“It's 2016! And you know Byron, he wouldn't have any qualms about being proposed to.”

Lardo waited for the punchline. It didn’t come.

“Ms. Knight, Shi-Byron and I aren’t together.”

Lardo can't see Shitty's mom, but she can hear her smile drop.

“You’re joking.”'

"...I'm not."

Lardo’s mistake was thinking this moment couldn’t get more awkward.

"Oh Byron would kill me, I just assumed your sexuality, didn't I?"

Lardo couldn’t help but laugh, at how horrible this conversation was going and at how Shitty must have lectured his mother about this.

“It’s fine,” she stammered, “I like men.” _And women._ Ms. Knight didn’t need to know that.

Lardo heard her sigh in relief.

“Look, I haven’t a clue how you feel about that disaster I raised, but I know my son, and I know he’s crazy about you.”

Lardo bit her nails, head imploding.

“And weren’t you his date to my nephew’s wedding all those years ago?”

His sophomore year at Samwell, her freshman. He put on his game day suit and they danced until they snuck out and smoked in her car—

“That was a date?” she thought out loud.

“Oh, Larissa.”

The women were quiet for a moment, internally screaming.

“Listen, I have a meeting to get to, but I’m sorry for dropping that bombshell on you. At least you know, now, right?”

“Right,” Lardo half-agreed.

“Ok, talk to you soon, buh-bye.”

For a moment, Lardo considered that maybe the weed she had smoked that morning was laced, and that entire conversation was a hallucination. That had to be it. Even if it had happened, Shitty’s mom couldn’t be right. Just because she was his plus one four years ago didn’t mean he was _in love_ with her or anything. She was just an old-fashioned mom who didn’t understand having friends of the opposite gender. Right?

***

Lardo's phone quacked from her back pocket. A couple of heads turned in the coffee shop, and Lardo sheepishly silenced her text tone.

 **SHITS** 🤠: can i talk to you about something

 **SHITS** 🤠: irl

Reading Shitty's text, her faint blush turned into an uncomfortable heat. Shitty was never this formal; it struck her the wrong way.

 **lardo** 🐣: yeah is everything ok??

Lardo placed her order and began waiting for the duck. And waiting. And grabbing her coffee. And waiting. And hurrying out onto the sidewalk. And waiting. And riding the MBTA. And waiting. And taking the stairs up the apartment two at a time. And waiting. And fumbling with the key.

"Hey," Shitty greeted, and Lardo let herself exhale.

"You could've texted me back."'

Shitty nodded an apology as he paced back and forth in front of the couch.

"Are you good?"

Shitty nodded again, not making eye contact. He kept fidgeting, a sure sign he was, in fact, not good. In a low, restrained voice, he started: "I talked to Jack."

"Oh my god, is he ok? Or is it B—"

"No, no, they're fine, nobody's dead."

That got him to laugh, nervously. Lardo did not do the same.

"Shitty! You scared me to death!" she ran to punch him on the shoulder, only half-joking.

"I'm sorry, I am, he just gave me some...advice? And I'm trying to take it."

Lardo squinted at him. "You can't just—look, I don't know what that's about, but I don't think this is what he meant."

Shitty shook his head and took another step closer to Lardo. They were about a foot apart now, which felt close in the good-sized living room they shared.

"I'm sorry, umm."

Lardo wasn't used to watching Shitty trip over his words. He was staring at the ground beneath him, lacking the confidence Lardo expected from him.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

Shitty didn't say a word as he moved closer, eyes daring to meet Lardo's. Hers were squinting at him, thoroughly confused by this conversation. And then she got it: Shitty's eyes flickered down to her lips. Holy fuck. This was it. She took a baby step closer. Lardo looked up through her eyelashes at Shitty, who was leaning in—

"Jack says I should go to the gala?" Shitty blurted, jumping back to an awkward distance.

Lardo had to stop her brow from furrowing. _WHAT THE FUCK_. It was like the past thirty seconds never happened; they were back to square one. Disappointment washed over her.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he stammered, "the gala."

Lardo's frustration smoldered. It burned behind her eyes and Shitty recognized it, of course he did, but he didn't admit it.

"Jack thinks it'd be good."

"You said that already."

Shitty paused before trying to salvage the conversation. "Right, yeah, I think he's onto something. It'll be swawesome."

"Swawesome," she repeated, voice dripping. Shitty rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's a big deal for my mom. And you!”

Lardo gave a curt nod. “If that’s all, I’m gonna go back to the studio.”

Shitty gave an out-of-character thumbs up. Lardo brushed past him. She walked (not stomped) up to her studio and shut (not slammed) the door.

The canvases for the gala stood in front of her. Their bright colors blurred together. She had dripped neon paint across them, then pasted on magazine clippings of smiling, happy people. Making it felt like she had translated some of her joy onto the canvases. Now it just seemed disorienting. Pointless. The happy people stared and she couldn’t take it, she couldn’t take this. The happy people were in heaven but she was trapped in purgatory, close to Shitty but not quite enough, hope rising and falling every day.

And then it struck her.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she found one of her largest brushes and a bucket of black paint. It was her ticket out of purgatory, for better or for worse. At least she’d know. Lardo dipped the paintbrush, trying to plan. Three canvases meant three words. _I love you_ was her first thought, but Shitty already knew that, even if he thought it was just platonic. _You’re the one_ was too cliche. But then she knew. It had to be the question she had always asked, the question everyone had always asked. With a determination she didn’t know she had, Lardo painted the first stroke. She panicked for a fleeting moment, then continued on. There was no side-stepping this, not anymore. The band-aid would be ripped off. Lardo read the words over and over, proud.

_**WHY** _

_**HAVEN’T** _

_**WE?** _

_******* _

Lardo had volunteered to walk to get take-out from the Greek place a few blocks down. She had been cooped up in her studio all day, and the fresh air would be a welcome change. Even if it was 90 degrees out. A partially overheated Lardo returned to their building, dinner in hand. Sound floated from underneath the door as she fumbled with the key, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Not until she got the door open. Behind it she found Shitty pacing in the kitchen, phone up to his ear.

"So _this_ is what you give a damn about, huh? Not hockey, not law school, not me, but my love life?"

Shitty spat out his words in a voice Lardo had never even heard. Hearing it killed her, if only a little bit. Shitty angry was not a new concept—she had been there when he dropped gloves and kicked lax bros out of kegsters. But the white knuckles around his phone were new and the hot tears blinking off his nose were new and Lardo realized that this pain was not new but very, very, old.

"You know I'm a lost cause, you gave up when Dad left, but now you want me to bring you grandkids so you can take another stab at the parenting thing. Redeem yourself. Tell me I'm wron—"

Shitty’s anger melted when he saw Lardo. He hung up on the screams from the other line. There was a second where he looked like he didn’t know what to do or how to react. Like he was lost. Lardo wouldn’t have that; she crossed the room to tackle him in a hug. He crumpled into her touch, holding the small of her back with trembling hands. There they stood for minutes and minutes.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Lardo asked gently, still burrowed into Shitty’s arms. She might have imagined it, but it felt like Shitty kissed her on the head.

“Can we over gyros?”

Lardo pulled away and gave a soft nod. Shitty tried to smile, but it wasn’t very convincing. Without speaking, they grabbed the neglected gyros and settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.

“I should never have let you call her.” Lardo blurted. She was instantly shot down.

“Hey, no, listen to me,” Shitty paused until Lardo made eye contact. “This is not on you.”

She felt awful for being the one comforted, but those were words she needed to hear.

“We have blow-ups all the time. Would’ve had one whether or not I called.” he said, taking a bite.

“I don’t know how healthy that is, Shitty.”

Shitty sighed. “According to Judith, nothing about my relationship with her is.”

Judith was Shitty’s (incredibly wise) therapist. Lardo couldn’t have agreed with her more.

“And it is fucked up. But lowkey, it’s so much better than bottling shit up like we used to.”

Lardo nodded, silently wishing he would take his own advice and say something to her. And he did, of course, but it wasn’t _I’m in love with you_ or _You’re it for me_. Lardo didn’t say those words either, not out loud. But she told him. She told him when she took his turn with the dishes and she told him when she suggested a _Back to the Future_ marathon and she told him when she made sure the volume was divisible by five so it wouldn’t give him the heebie-jeebies. By the second movie, the evening’s earlier drama was all but forgotten. By the third, Shitty laid across the couch, head in Lardo’s lap. Lardo played with his hair until he drifted off. It felt so natural, the two of them like this. Lardo shut off the TV, but made no attempt to get up.

“In a week, you’ll know.” she breathed, barely above a whisper. The thought made her smile, and not long after she was lulled to sleep.

***

That week passed faster than Lardo had expected. Before she knew it, the day of the gala had arrived. To say that Lardo was nervous would be a gross understatement. She was terrified. But Lardo wasn't really in the mood to hear her panicked thoughts while she got dressed, so she turned on the speakers in her bedroom and blasted her music. Everyone in the building could hear the bassline, but Lardo couldn't care less. This was her pre-game ritual. And it was worked; Lardo only stopped dancing to apply eyeliner. By the time she slipped on her thrifted slip dress, her apprehension had been replaced by determination. She knew what she had to do and she was going to look damn good doing it. With a deep breath, Lardo smoothed out the champagne-colored silk and stepped into the hallway.

For a second, she wondered if a GQ model had broken into the apartment. There was a man in a tux waiting by the door, adjusting his cufflinks like he would in a photoshoot. His hair was tousled ever-so-slightly and his tailored suit hugged his figure perfectly and—

"Wow," Lardo breathed before she caught herself. "Love the fit."

"Thanks," Shitty twisted in the mirror to check out his backside. "It's an apology gift."

Lardo quirked an eyebrow.

"We talked our shit out over brunch. Turns out my affection can be bought with mimosas."

Lardo couldn't quite laugh at Shitty's joke. Not after seeing how much she impacted him.

"Hey," he said, much quieter, wrapping his hands around her shoulders. "She apologized, and so did I. We're good." He rubbed his thumb over her skin, waiting for her approval. It came in a begrudging nod.

“Glad we sorted it out before the gala, because look at yourself, Ms. Duan.” he teased, twirling her. Lardo rolled her eyes but was endeared nevertheless.

He grabbed the keys and she grabbed her clutch and together they stepped out of the apartment and down the steps to the garage. Lardo jogged ahead to open the car door for Shitty. It was a silly gesture, returned by a silly curtsy. He slid into the driver's seat of their 2002 green CR-V; Lardo was sure it would be the only one at the gala. It was early evening, and Boston was starting to turn pink. Shitty and Lardo rolled their windows down, letting the warm summer air seep in. Indie music floated out of the car and onto the sidewalk. Shitty twisted the dial to a hum.

"Now, Lards, I just have to warn you about something," Shitty sounded serious, but Lardo saw through it. This was his setting-up-a-joke voice, and anyone who had known him as long as she had would recognize it. "Julia Essmann will be there."

Shitty waited for Lardo to react; she didn't.

"The first and last girl I ever asked out? I was obsessed with her for like, years."

"Were you, now?"

"Yeah, man, I even wrote her a song."

Lardo's incredulous expression convinced him to start singing: _"Julia, I think you're cool, yeah."_

Lardo burst out laughing, covering her ears.

Shitty's horrendous voice only grew louder. _"I wanna walk to school with ya."_

Lardo begged him to stop, more because her stomach hurt from laughing so hard than anything else.

He obliged, feigning offense. "You know, for a third-grader, that was some lyrical genius."

Lardo shook her head, thoroughly enjoying the mental image of baby Shitty writing a love song.

"But don't worry, you have nothing to be jealous of."

"Jealous?" Lardo laughed, "why would I be jealous?"

"I dunno," Shitty grinned, eyes sparkling.

Neither answered. The moment stretched on, but in a good way, like caramel or guitar riffs or neverending highways. This is when Lardo knew she loved him. Had started loving him years ago. The revelation came softly, came with a smile. She carried it with her as Shitty pulled up to the venue, as he slipped the valet a $20, as he extended his arm. Lardo wrapped her hands around his upper arm and together they stepped forward.

Despite the venue’s minimalist aesthetic, Lardo was still overwhelmed. Round tables sat in the center, and art and baskets flanked the sides. Elegant people strolled around, wine glasses in hand. Lardo was still taking it all in when a man’s voice boomed.

"Yo, if it isn't B-fuckin-S!"

"Bullshit, no way! It's been forever!"

Lardo looked to Shitty, horrified. _My life is a lie._ Shitty was too busy tackling the hockey players that had lumbered over to notice Lardo's brain melting.

"Lardo, these are some of my absolute best brahs from Andover, Duke and JJ. Brahs, this is Lardo."

Lardo shook their calloused hands with a smile. They seemed nice, and Lardo was all set to get to know them when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Shitty’s mom. She was in a conservative green dress, one that matched the eyes Shitty had inherited.

"Larissa! You look stunning. Can I borrow you for a second?"

Lardo glanced to Shitty and his friends before nodding. The trio waved as Lardo followed Shitty’s mom away from the conversation. They navigated to a quiet wall, where they stood shoulder to shoulder. Lardo was grateful to be spared having to make direct eye contact.

"Larissa, I wanted to apologize to you, too. Byron mentioned you heard some of our argument."

“I-I did, yeah.”

“I’m sorry, I know that must have been upsetting. I was out of line.”

Lardo hummed in agreement.

“Although my methods were...questionable, I was just trying to prevent him from making the same mistakes his father made.”

“What do you mean?”

Shitty’s mom flagged down a server carrying wine. Lardo said a silent prayer and grabbed a glass.

“Those two really aren’t that different, though neither of them would admit it. They’re both petrified of rocking the boat.”

Lardo was a little puzzled. The Shitty she knew was not afraid to bend the rules.

“They love their lives, and the people in them. So much that sometimes, they see change as a threat to that.”

_Sounds about right._

“For Jay, that meant he wanted his perfect family to stay perfect. For Byron, though, I think it’s that group you’ve formed. He loves you all, truly, but you’re what he’s afraid of losing the most.”

Lardo turned. “You really think so?

“I know so. He’s drunkenly explained this to me a number of times.”

Lardo couldn’t help but laugh. She had lost sight of their conversation’s subject. But she found him again, in profile, standing in front of three canvases on the wall.

"Thanks for talking to me, Ms. Knight. Will you excuse me?"

Shitty’s mom nodded, following Lardo’s eyes.

“Go get him.”

Lardo took a deep breath and walked off. Fear flashed through her mind, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She was crossing the room towards Shitty, and it was the easiest thing in the world. He stood in front of the canvases, her canvases, her words. _**WHY HAVEN’T WE?**_ Lardo was only a couple of feet away now. He was still looking up, she couldn’t read his expression from the side—

And he turned.

Shitty’s eyes were misty, and when he saw her, he burst into the dopiest smile. Lardo beamed back as she took a came even closer. He looked down at her, wide-eyed.

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

Lardo only nodded once before he blinked out a tear. She swiped it with her thumb and her hand stayed on his cheek and finally, finally, finally, he brought his lips down to hers. It was the sweetest, easiest thing. The kiss was broken by their unstoppable smiles, and the world would’ve entirely fallen away had the applause not started. It took a moment to register it was for them, but once they did, the blushing couple gave a half-hearted wave to their well-wishers. Lardo went up on her tiptoes to whisper in Shitty’s ear: “Wanna make out in the car and then get Taco Bell?”

Shitty nodded, looking mischievous. Then before she knew it, he had picked her up bridal style.

“We’re getting Taco Bell!” he announced to the small crowd, and nobody laughed as hard as Lardo. A loud, obnoxious whooping caught her attention, and there stood Shitty’s mom, cheering like he had won the cup. Lardo unhooked her hand from around Shitty's collar to wave. Not long after Shitty carried her through the double doors, leaving the gala behind. Gently he set her down, so they could stand in the warm air together.

“I love you,” Shitty told her, out loud this time. Lardo kissed him again, chaste, so she wouldn’t have to wait long before saying it back. He had that look in his eye again, like he was trying to memorize this moment. It was pretty perfect, after all. Except for one thing.

The valet coughed. “Your keys, Mr. Knight.”

Shitty and Lardo broke away like busted teenagers. The poor valet dangled the keys to the CR-V by the red solo cup keychain. Lardo grabbed the keys and Shitty shook his hand.

“Today’s the best day of my fucking life,” he told the scared valet, who was happy to find another $20 had been hidden in that handshake. Lardo wanted to tattoo those words onto her forehead.

“Best day of your life, huh?” she chirped as she unlocked the car.

He stopped in front of the passenger door, just beaming.

“By far."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you everyone for reading my VERY FIRST FANFIC!! woo!! please let me know your thoughts and headcanons for what they ordered at taco bell after riding off into the sunset together :)


End file.
